Pearl Buck - Pavilion of Women

“He has never shown what he wants,” Madame Wu said. “He has until now merely been growing up. But after seventeen a mother must begin to watch a son.”

“Of course,” Madame Kang agreed. She pursed her lips and thought of Fengmo, his arrogant bladelike body and proud head.

“Come,” Madame Wu said frankly, “why do I not speak the truth to you? I had thought of pouring our blood into the same stream again. Fengmo and Linyi — what do you say?”

Madame Kang clapped her hands twice together. “Good!” she cried. Then she let her plump hands drop. “But that Linyi,” she said, mournfully. “It is one thing for me to say good. How do I know what she will say?”

“You should never have let her go to a foreign school,” Madame Wu said. “I told you that at the time.”

“You were right,” Madame Kang said sadly. “Nothing at home is good enough for her now. She complains about everything. She quarrels at her father when he spits on the floor, poor soul. She wants us to put jars on the floor for spittle. But the babies pick up the jars and drop them and break them. And Linyi is angry because she wants all the babies to wear cloths tied about their little bottoms. But with thirteen small grandchildren under this roof still not able to contain their water, how can we tie cloths about all of them? Our ancestors taught us wisdom in seatless trousers. Shall we flout their wisdom? We have three wash maids as it is.”

“In our house she would not be troubled with any small children except our own,” Madame Wu said. “And with her own a woman learns wisdom.”

She was too kind to tell Madame Kang that in this matter she secretly felt sympathy with Linyi. The wet nurses and maids in this house were continually holding out the babies to pass their water on the floor until one did not know where to step. Madame Wu had never allowed these easy-going ways in her own house. The maids had always commands to take the small children into certain corners or behind trees.

Madame Kang looked doubtfully at her friend. “I would be glad for you to have her,” she said. “She needs to be married and have her mind taken up. But I love you too well not to tell you her faults. I feel she will demand foreign learning in Fengmo even if she is willing to marry him. She will think it shameful that he speaks no foreign language.”

“But with whom would he speak it?” Madame Wu asked. “Would she and he sit together and talk foreign tongues? It would be silly.”

“Certainly it would,” Madame Kang agreed. “But it is a matter for pride, you know, in these young women, nowadays, to chatter in a foreign tongue.”

The two ladies looked thoughtfully at each other. Then Madame Wu said plainly, “Either Linyi must be satisfied with Fengmo as he is, or I shall have to let the matter drop. War is in the air, and my sons may not go off to coastal cities. Here we are safe, for we are provinces away from the sea.”

“Wait!” Madame Kang was suddenly cheered. “I have it,” she said. “There is a foreign priest in the city. Why do you not engage him as a tutor for Fengmo? Then when I speak to Linyi, I can tell her Fengmo is learning foreign tongues.”

“A foreign man?” Madame Wu repeated doubtfully. “But how could we have him come into the house? Would there not be disturbances? I hear all Western men are very lusty and fierce.”

“This is a priest,” Madame Kang said. “He is beyond such thoughts.”

Madame Wu considered the matter still more thoughtfully. “Well,” she said at last, “if Linyi should insist upon this, it would be better than sending Fengmo away from us into a foreign school.”

“So it is,” Madame Kang agreed.

Madame Wu rose. “Then you will speak to Linyi and I will speak to Fengmo.”

“If Fengmo will not?” Madame Kang asked.

“He will,” Madame Wu said, “for I will choose the right time. With a man, young or old, the important thing is the choice of the time.”

“How well you know,” Madame Kang murmured.

The two ladies rose and hand in hand wandered out of the room. Tea was set in the court and some cakes.

“Will you not stay and refresh yourself, Sister?” Madame Kang asked.

But Madame Wu shook her head. “If you will forgive the discourtesy,” she said, “I will go home. Today may be the right time for me to speak to Fengmo.”

She did not like to tell even Madame Kang that Fengmo might be disturbed because he had seen Ch’iuming before she had gone into his father’s courts. She said good-by and left some money for a gift to the maid who had prepared tea, and Ying came from the servants’ rooms where she had been gossiping, and so Madame Wu went home again.

The first person whom she saw, however, upon her return was not Fengmo, but the foreigner, Little Sister Hsia. Even as all the servants in all the houses of the city knew what went on in the Wu family house and the Kang family house, who were the two great families, so Madame Wu knew that Little Sister Hsia’s cook also had heard and told the news.

Little Sister Hsia was just crossing the main court inside the gate when she saw Madame Wu. She stopped at once and cried out, “Oh, Madame Wu, I have just heard —it can’t be true?”

“Come in,” Madame Wu said kindly. “Is it not a fair day? The air is not often so clear at this season. We will sit outdoors, and Ying must bring us something to eat. It must be nearly noon.” She guided Little Sister Hsia across the general court and into the one which was her own.

“Please sit down,” she said. “I must go to my own rooms for a moment. But rest yourself. Enjoy the morning.”

Smiling and making her graceful bows, Madame Wu withdrew into her own rooms. Ying followed her sourly.

“It must be we shall have rain, again,” she muttered. “The devils are out.”

“Hush,” Madame Wu said. But she smiled as she sat down before the mirror. She smoothed a hair out of place, touched her cheeks with powder, and changed her earrings from plain gold ones to her jade flower ones. Then she washed and perfumed her hands and went outdoors again.

Little Sister Hsia’s pale face was twisted with sympathy. She rose from her chair with the awkward swiftness which was her habit.

“Oh, good friend,” she sighed, “what a trial has come on you! I never dreamed — Mr. Wu seemed so different from other men — I always thought—”

“I am very glad you have come this morning,” Madame Wu said lightly, with her warm smile. “You can help me.”

They were seated. Little Sister Hsia leaned forward in her intense way, her hands clenched together. “Anything,” she murmured, “anything! Dear Madame Wu, sometimes the Lord punishes those whom he loves—”

Madame Wu opened her large eyes widely. “Do you wish to preach gospel this morning, Little Sister?” she inquired. “If you do, I will postpone what I was about to say.”

“Only to comfort you,” Little Sister Hsia said, “only to help you.”

“But I am very well,” Madame Wu said in surprise.

“I heard, I thought—” Little Sister Hsia faltered, much bewildered.

“You must not heed the gossip of servants,” Madame Wu said gently. “They always wish to be bearers of some exciting news. Had they their way we should all be ill today and dead tomorrow and risen again on the third day.”

Little Sister Hsia looked sharply at Madame Wu. Was she making a joke? She decided not to be angry. “Then it is not true?” she asked.

“I do not know what is not true or true,” Madame Wu returned. “But I can assure you that nothing happens in this house without my knowledge and my permission.”

She took pity on the slight purplish blush that now spotted the pale foreign face at which she looked. “You are always kind,” Madame Wu said gently. “Will you help me?”